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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28459059">A Thousand Words for Every Chord</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/igrockspock/pseuds/igrockspock'>igrockspock</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidental Bonding, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mind Meld, coughing up blood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:35:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,108</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28459059</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/igrockspock/pseuds/igrockspock</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Nyota is injured during a cave-in and their medical supplies are destroyed, Spock can do little more than offer comfort until help arrives.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Spock/Nyota Uhura</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>93</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Bulletproof 20/21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Thousand Words for Every Chord</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jen425/gifts">Jen425</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When her fourth coughing fit scattered drops of blood across the sleeve of her dust-covered uniform, Nyota felt scared, although she tried not to show it.  </p><p>She looked around the cave, taking inventory yet again.  They had rocks, rocks, and more rocks...and that was it.  The cave-in had crushed everything except two water bottles and a flashlight.  There was nothing they could use to escape, and nothing they could use for medical treatment, or even so much as a scan.</p><p>Nyota flipped open her communicator, but once again, there was no answering chirp.</p><p>“It is unlikely the composition of the rock has shifted in the last fifteen minutes.  Thus, it will continue to block our transmission for the foreseeable future,” Spock said.  He’d propped himself against the wall of the cave, using his jacket as a pillow, and declared that he would use the time to meditate.  “We have no recourse but to wait for rescue.”</p><p>Nyota nodded, not wanting to hear how ragged her voice sounded.  If she could send a message to the <i>Enterprise</i>, she’d ask them to send down next week’s half-finished duty roster so that she wouldn’t be bored.    She definitely would <i>not</i> ask them if coughing up blood meant that she was dying, because it was surely no big deal.</p><p>And if it <i>was</i> a big deal, there would be nothing she could do to fix it.</p><p>Spock swung the flashlight toward her.  She tried to lay a hand over the bloody sleeve of her uniform, but she was too late.</p><p>“You are expectorating blood, and attempting to hide it.  Why would you do this?” </p><p>Spock’s level voice betrayed no hint of emotion, not even the slight shifts she could usually read.  That meant she had no idea who she was talking to -- her boyfriend, or a superior officer.  It wasn’t always easy to draw the line.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” she offered, a response that seemed reasonably appropriate for both.  “It was inappropriate, I know.”</p><p>“Nyota.”</p><p>Spock’s voice always went low and soft when he said her name, and she leaned into it like a caress.</p><p>“I do not judge you for being afraid in this situation.  It is not an entirely illogical response.”</p><p>“Because I really have something to worry about?” She coughed into her elbow and tried not to look at the blood spatters left behind.</p><p>“Not necessarily.”  Spock reached toward her, and Nyota assumed he intended to press his two fingers against hers.  Instead, he put an arm around her shoulders and drew her closer to him.  “Fear is a useful emotion.  Its purpose is to keep us alive.  Ironically, it may drive us to take actions that endanger our lives.”</p><p>“Like hiding an injury?” Nyota asked, letting her head rest against Spock’s shoulder.  Neither of them were much for cuddling, but at the moment, his warmth felt good.</p><p>“Precisely,” Spock answered, with just a touch of dry humor.  “Had you informed me of the problem, I could have told you that expectoration of blood may occur when the throat has become unusually dry or irritated, and may not indicate a serious injury to the lungs.”</p><p>Nyota pulled back to look at Spock.  “How do you know that?  Are you just making something up and using scientific terminology to make it sound more credible?”</p><p>“I assure you I am not.”  He shifted slightly.  “After a certain incident, which I believe we both recall, I agreed to refrain from such behavior.  And as this single incident has cast doubt on my credibility in many circumstances, it would be illogical to repeat it.”</p><p>Nyota narrowed her eyes.  “Is this your way of saying ‘get over it already?’”</p><p>“You are of course free to ask logical followup questions about factual information I provide, just as I will now consider myself free to carefully examine you for signs of injury in the future.”  He pulled her toward him again.  “Mates must assist one another in avoiding bad habits and eliminating weaknesses.”</p><p>Nyota wanted to ask him what exactly he meant by mate.  Was it simply the word Vulcans used in a long-term relationship?  Or did it imply something more, a lasting commitment and perhaps a legal arrangement as well?</p><p>Before she could form the words, another coughing fit overtook her, more violent than the last.  Spock passed her a tissue from his pocket -- <i>of course</i> he had tissues in his pocket -- and his arm remained firmly around her shoulders, even as they shook with the force of every cough.</p><p>“I don’t want to look,” she admitted, allowing Spock to take the tissue from her hand.</p><p>“If ice relieves the problem, your lungs have not been injured,” he said, carefully shielding the tissue from her view.  </p><p>“All we need is a replicator,” Nyota murmured.</p><p>“On the contrary, I have come prepared.”  Spock passed her his water bottle which was, of course, neatly labeled with his name and serial number.  “The surface temperature of this planet was anticipated to be quite warm.  I therefore included ice water in my lunch container.”</p><p>Nyota did as Spock instructed, sucking on a few of the ice cubes and resealing the bottle carefully to preserve the rest. </p><p>“How do you know all this?” she asked, burrowing more closely against Spock’s side.  In her other relationships, she’d avoided being held this way.  It had always felt confining, but now she just felt secure.</p><p>“Vaccines sometimes offer imperfect protection to children with hybrid biology.  When I was a child, I developed a severe respiratory illness, not unlike what humans call the whooping cough.”</p><p>“And it was so bad you started coughing up blood?” </p><p>“Yes.  I was very frightened, but my grandmother assured me that the lining of my throat had become irritated.  She fed me ice chips until the bleeding subsided.”</p><p>“Your human grandmother or your Vulcan grandmother?”</p><p>From her position at Spock’s shoulder, she could barely see the faint upward twitch of his lips.  “My human grandmother faints at the sight of blood.”</p><p>Spock spoke of his family so rarely, and Nyota could barely decide which question to ask first.  She opened her mouth, but Spock shook his head.</p><p>“You should refrain from speaking.  It will irritate your throat further.”  A strand of hair had come loose from her ponytail, and Spock tucked it carefully behind her ear.  “I am aware you will find this request difficult, but other methods of communication are available.”</p><p>His fingers hovered uncertainly over her face, and Nyota caught her breath.  Even after two years together, Spock rarely suggested this outside sex, when he could claim that <i>it is logical for both partners to be aware of one another’s desires and sensations.</i> She knew the mind meld was sacred in a way that had no equivalent in human culture, and that to do it outside a bonded relationship was rare and precious.  She tilted her face up, and Spock pressed his fingers gently against her face.</p><p>Suddenly she was <i>inside</i> Spock’s memory.  The woman who stood above him looked severe, even for a Vulcan.  Her stoic gaze, and the lines carved into her ancient face, made her look as if she were hewn from a mountain.  Though Nyota knew the woman wasn’t here, she had to fight the urge to squirm under her gaze; she was clearly the sort of person of person who studied and analyzed every flaw.</p><p><i>I dreaded visits to her home, and I was not pleased when my parents left me with her during a diplomatic conference.</i>  Spock’s voice echoed in Nyota’s mind.</p><p><i>No wonder</i>, she sent back.</p><p>As Spock began to cough, the woman’s face didn’t soften exactly, but her expression grew fractionally less stony.  </p><p>“Thou will consume ice chips for a period of thirty minutes, and if thy cough has not improved, a medicopter will be summoned,” she said.  Her language was ridiculously formal, but she nodded encouragingly at Spock as she proffered a tumbler filled with ice. </p><p> As the sun slid from the sky, Spock’s cough faded, and the old woman spoke again.  “I shall remain at thy side tonight, should thee have need of me.”</p><p><i>It was the first time you knew she cared about you,</i> she thought, and she felt Spock nod above her.</p><p>Her thoughts drifted toward her own grandmother’s warm kitchen, always filled with the scents of spicy stews or frying samosas.  For as long as she could remember, she had sought out her grandmother’s home as a refuge, first from her parents’ fights, and then from the pressure of maintaining a perfect facade after their’ divorce.  Never once had she questioned whether she was loved, wanted, or cared for.</p><p>Adrift in her memories, she didn’t notice at first when she began to wheeze.  When the next coughing spasm rocked her body, she knew what she would see on the tissue -- especially now that she could feel Spock’s guilt and anger ripple through their link.</p><p>“Well, I guess it’s more than some throat irritation,” she said.  No point sparing her throat now.  She pushed back her fear to focus on Spock.  “I’m going to need you to quit with the guilt.  It’s <i>bullshit.</i>”</p><p>“You inhaled significantly more particulates because you threw yourself on top of me when the cave collapsed.  As the superior officer, it was my job to protect you.”</p><p>“As someone who loves you, it’s <i>my</i> job to protect you.”  She thought back to the Spock in the memory, one who had rarely known protection, even within his own family.  “Whether or not it’s what you’re used to, it’s how love works.  And I’m not going to stop.  Ever.”</p><p>The force of her words led to another coughing fit, this one nearly doubling her over.  Spock’s hand hovered tentatively over her back, then stroked slowly up and down.  She knew, suddenly, this was the exact thing he had wished for as a child, the gesture of love he would not ask for lest it make him appear weak.  She closed her hand around his and squeezed as hard as she could.</p><p>She slumped against Spock when the coughing subsided, her energy spent.  “What now?” she managed.  Her voice was nothing more than a rasp.</p><p>“You will remain stationary and avoid speaking,” Spock said.  “I have faith that Captain Kirk and the crew of the <i>Enterprise</i> are drilling through the rocks, and they will reach us in due time.”</p><p>By now, she felt as if a metal band were clamped around her chest, and every breath felt as if she were swimming underwater, fighting to kick her way up to the surface in time.  <i>Show me something pretty</i>, she thought to Spock.</p><p>A picture of jagged mountains filled her mind.  The sky above them was a deep cerulean, the wispy clouds nearly close enough to touch.  Beneath her, a horse trotted down a narrow dirt track that separated fields of swaying grasses.</p><p><i>What planet is this?</i> she thought.</p><p><i>Earth.  Kyrgyzstan,</i> Spock answered.  </p><p>For an instant, she saw a stack of transporter credits in Spock’s hand, saved to explore the homeworld he had once denied.  Then the image shifted back to the mountains.  A domed tent approached in the distance, fronted by an intricately painted door.  When Spock stepped inside, she caught a glimpse of his tanned skin and windblown hair in a mirror that hung on one of the simple sheepskin walls.  He was, unquestionably, smiling.</p><p>Soon the vision shifted to a sunset over bright white salt plains, and then again to arches of bright red rocks over desert sands.  As they left the planet earth, the images grew dimmer, as though a veil were falling over her eyes, the fabric growing thicker with each passing minute.  </p><p><i>Don’t be guilty,</i> she thought as hard as she could. <i>Saving you was worth it.</i></p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>Nyota awakened to the bright lights of sickbay.  Dr. McCoy was standing above her.<p>“You inhaled an impressive amount of toxic dust, young lady,” he said.  “Lucky for you, we’ve got nanobots cleaning out your lungs as we speak.”</p><p>“Science is amazing.”  Nyota’s words were slurred.  On reflection, she thought she might be a little high.</p><p>“Yeah, we’ve got you pumped up on quite a few drugs.  I brought you around to give your body a little break from sedation.  Don’t worry, I’ll put you out before the nanobots come out your nose.”  McCoy patted her shoulder reassuringly.</p><p>“Tiny robots are going to crawl out my nose?” she asked.  The thought made her feel significantly more sober.</p><p>McCoy snorted.  “How do you think they got in there?  We didn’t cut you open!  Good god, woman, it’s not the twenty-first century!”</p><p>Nyota tried to sit up, but McCoy pushed her back down.  “I didn’t figure you for a nervous patient, but I’ve got plenty of treatment options for anxiety.” </p><p>He brandished a hypo, but Nyota pushed it away.</p><p>“Where’s Spock?” she demanded, preparing to shove McCoy out of the way and look if she had to.</p><p>McCoy pointed toward another biobed.  “Dehydration, electrolyte imbalance, mild hypoxia, and extreme exhaustion.  Can’t explain it, but it’s easy enough to fix.  Now <i>you</i> lay back down, because he’ll be  asleep for a day.  A <i>Vulcan</i> day, mind you, not a human one.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>Discharged from sickbay with nothing else to do, Nyota worked her scheduled shift.  As she completed the mission debrief and transmitted the reports to Starfleet, she pondered what had happened to Spock.  He’d seemed perfectly healthy -- and more importantly, when their minds were linked and he couldn’t hide, he’d <i>felt</i> perfectly healthy.  How had he wound up with a slew of medical conditions that had nothing to do with inhaling particulates?<p>Throughout the day, odd images drifted into her mind.  They were disjointed and non-sequential, as if from dreams.  Occasionally, they were accompanied by snatches of Vulcan and English, and once by a selection of computer code.  </p><p>When Dr. McCoy called to tell her that Spock had awakened, she said, “I know.”  Then, purely as an experiment, she dedicated five full minutes to thinking about how good he looked in his Starfleet-issued physical training uniform.</p><p>At the end of her shift, Nyota wasn’t surprised to find Spock sitting on her couch wearing the exact set of exercise clothes she’d pondered earlier.  </p><p>He cocked an eyebrow at her and said, “Your hypothesis was correct.  Our mental connection has endured.”</p><p>Nyota leaned against the doorway for a moment, admiring Spock’s physique.  Unlike certain other crew members, he felt little need to build huge muscles simply to prove he could; his limbs were powerful, but long and lean.  Her gaze traveled upward to his face.  He appeared uninjured, though dark shadows still lingered under his eyes.  Quickly she crossed the room toward him and settled astride his lap.</p><p>At his questioning glance, she said in Vulcan, “I have decided that increased physical contact pleases me.”  Then she switched to English, for once uncertain how to phrase her words in another language.  “Spock, did you give me some of your...life force?” </p><p>He lifted a hand to smooth a hair that had escaped from her ponytail, as he had in the cave.  “It is possible to transfer energy through a mind meld, should one party be in need.”</p><p>“So you risked your life to save mine.”  It wasn’t really a question.</p><p>“It is possible the crew would have reached you in time, but I was not willing to take the chance.”  He paused, and a corner of his mouth twitched upward.  “Someone told me recently that protection is part of how love works.”</p><p>He spoke the word love with the same reverence he always spoke her name.  She knew it was a difficult word for him to say, yet he did, for her.  Now she could see fragments of memories drifting through his mind: Sarek denying that he loved Amanda, and a decision early in their own relationship that he would not deny his feelings for Nyota.</p><p>“This connection between us...how long does it last?” Nyota asked.  What a rare privilege to see inside someone’s mind.  It was a whole new way to communicate, and she wanted to appreciate it while it lasted.</p><p>Spock swallowed.  “It is a bond.  It will endure permanently.”</p><p>“We’re married?” Nyota asked.  “My Bibi is going to be very upset we didn’t invite her.”</p><p>“In a Vulcan sense, yes.  Your remark is flippant, and yet, a significant change has occurred for both of us.”  Spock paused, and Nyota could feel him struggling to find the right words.  “Nyota, I was aware this would occur when I transferred my energy to you.  However, I did not ask if you desired such an enduring connection between us, and if you wish it broken, procedures are available.”</p><p>Nyota swallowed back her instinctive <i>no.</i> She was grateful Spock had saved her life; she didn’t want him trapped because of it.  “Do <i>you</i> want it broken?”</p><p>She wasn’t prepared for the surge of pain that sliced through Spock’s chest and into her own, and she took his hand instinctively.  Leaning her forehead against his, she said, “I’ll take that as a no, then.”</p><p>He pulled back so that he could look into her eyes.  “I had intended a proposal for some time.  However, the odds of cultural misunderstanding seemed high.  On Vulcan, a marriage is a decision between families, not simply individuals.  Yet I am aware that among human women, the consultation of older family members may be perceived as a slight against a woman’s independence.  The matter of jewelry posed additional complexities.  Among my mother’s culture, a ring is an appropriate token of engagement, however, within your culture, my research indicates that elaborate beadwork may be preferred.  As I lack expertise in the purchase of such --”</p><p>Nyota cut him off.  “You’re babbling.  I’ve never heard you babble before.”</p><p>Spock frowned.  “Babbling implies a lack of organization and frequent repetition of ideas.  I merely provided a detailed accounting of the challenges associated with intercultural marriage proposals.”</p><p>Nyota shook her head so her favorite green earrings -- which she had fortunately not been wearing in the cave -- swung back and forth.  “Earrings are my preferred form of jewelry.  Consulting my grandmother isn’t necessary, but she may actually kill us if we don’t go back to Earth and throw a party.”</p><p>Spock’s hands settled around her waist, a comforting and familiar weight.  “So you accept the proposal? Even though it is belated and lacked adequate planning?”</p><p>Nyota rested her hands on top of his.  “I do.  As it happens, I think mutual life saving during a natural disaster is an <i>excellent</i> basis for a lifelong partnership.  No traditional proposal required.”</p>
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